


Once You're Mine, There's No Going Back

by FiliTheLionKing (IAmYourWatson)



Series: A Witch and His Vampire [2]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Anders is a dark witch, Basically they get dark magic married, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Dark Magic, Exhibitionism, Knifeplay, M/M, Mitchell is still a vampire, Public Claiming, Public Sex, Ritual Public Sex, Ritual Sex, Rituals, Spells & Enchantments, Witchcraft, black magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmYourWatson/pseuds/FiliTheLionKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been several months since Anders was revealed to Mitchell as a dark witch. In that time, they've settled into a nice routine of murder, blood, dark rituals, and rough sex. You know, domestic things. But as the new moon approaches, Anders wishes to cement their bond in the most permanent a witch knows how: he wants to claim his lover beneath the dark moon as his mate, and have Mitchell do the same to him. Mitchell, while initially reluctant, soon agrees, and what follows is a black night of blood, magic, blades, and sex. </p><p>A new moon rises. </p><p>The spirits walk the earth.</p><p>All ye witches, claim thy mate, for tonight is the blackest night of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once You're Mine...

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and salutations, my dark lovelies! So yes, I know I'm supposed to be working on The Ice King, but this au just keeps coming back to haunt me (get it, see what I did there?) and demands to have new stories written about it. So here we are! I don't know if I've written a proper lemon on here before (wow, that's an old term, isn't it? I think I just dated myself...), so I hope it turned out nicely and that you enjoy the story! As always, comments and critiques make me very happy, so please leave some!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've been together for several months now, long enough for Anders to know that Mitchell is it for him, his one and only, the sole being his black, desiccated heart will ever love. There is but one thing for witches to do when they've found their mate: they must claim them, before their entire family or clan, under the black light of the new moon. 
> 
> Mitchell, however, may be a bit more reluctant, and will take some convincing...

Ah, if only Anders had let Mitchell know his secret sooner, they could have been rolling in blood months ago. As it was, at least the cat had been let out of the bag, so to speak, before they got even more serious. It tended to be a bit of a deal-breaker, being a witch, especially when a vampire was involved in the matter. But now the air was entirely clear, at least as far as major revelations were concerned, and the two were settling down into a nice, quiet life of murder and dark sacrifices. You know, domestic stuff. 

Not that anyone could call either man domesticated in any sense of the word. They were both feral animals in their own way: for Mitchell it was quite literally, while Anders was more the beast lurking in the bushes, a hidden danger whereas Mitchell was more overt. Their personalities complimented each other as much as they clashed, which made for the perfect relationship, with just the right amount of fucking mixed with fighting and fluffiness. It would amaze some people to know that vampires could be real sweethearts, when they weren’t slicing throats and ripping hearts out. And witches were consummate lovers who knew every pleasure point in the body, as well as all the ways to heal it; they took good care of their lovers, and it showed. Rare was the beau of a witch in poor health.

 

It had been three months since Mitchell found out that his blonde lover was a witch, and eight months since he’d moved to New Zealand for said man. Mitchell’s gullet hadn’t been this full of blood since he and Herrick had ruled Britain in the early half of the 20th century. Anders would lure men and women in like sacrifices to the altar, bringing Mitchell blood, glorious blood, to feast on whenever he was hungry. The witch was even good enough to pick victims who wouldn’t be missed, but whose blood was as sweet as wine upon Mitchell’s lips. The bodies were easily dealt with, and Mitchell ate at least once a week. He hadn’t felt this good in ages, and it showed.

Sometimes, Dawn would walk in on her boss and his Irish boyfriend fucking on the couch in the blonde’s office, and she’d stalk off in a flustered huff while the two men laughed and laughed and laughed, if they even deigned to notice her at all. Still, Anders would give his thrall a raise (not that she knew she was his thrall) and make sure that she had plenty of time off to see Ty (who knew that she was Anders’ thrall; he’d even helped his ‘brother’ cast the spell). Eventually, it got to the point where she would text beforehand just to make sure that Anders wasn’t balls-deep in Mitchell before she came in to work. Mitchell, who was a sweetheart underneath it all, would always be sure to bring her coffee and treats, mostly to bribe her into silence (although his natural charm did that for him). That, and he did genuinely like her, for her fierceness and her willingness to stand up to Anders, when she wasn’t being mind-controlled, that is. 

Tonight, though…tonight was going to be different. Tonight was a new moon, a time of darkness and even darker rituals, a sacred time for all the dark witches of the world. Tonight was the night when all witches who’d found their bondmates could lay claim to them before the rest of their coven or clan. It was an ancient ceremony, performed only before those considered to be the witch’s family. The ritual was binding, more solid and more permanent than any marriage contract could ever be; it was a promise written to the stars, to the moonlight, to the everlasting darkness that shrouded the universe. It was a promise as constricting as metal chains, more lasting than the rocks that counted eons, as strong a proclamation of love as their could ever be.

No witch undertook the ceremony without knowing, deep within their black hearts, that they were going to keep their beloved with them for all of eternity. This was because the ceremony granted their lover an eternal life that was tied to that of the witch. In the case of the lover being an immortal supernatural, like a vampire, the spell would merely bind their lifetimes together, so that if one died, the other perished in that same instant. The bond sealed their hearts together, made it so that the witch could not bear to be parted from their intended for long, not even in the most dire of circumstances. Their lover would also feel this inherent need for their witch, desiring none but their spellcaster for all eternity. It was a truly absolute vow, something that no witch ever undertook lightly, because it always asked more of the witch than it did of the witch’s lover. But for Mitchell, Anders was willing to make the promise, to cast the spell and bind himself to his vampire. 

It had taken longer for Mitchell to warm up to the idea. Truly, he loved his little blonde witch, wanting nothing more than to remain by his side forever. After all, they were both immortal, so nothing save a dark hand in the dark or a stake through the heart could separate them. They had all the time in the world. But while witches, he found out, only gave their black hearts once, vampires weren’t made that way. Witches dealt in absolutes, more often than not, and when they decided on something, they got it and devoted themselves to it for the rest of their lives. Vampires, obviously, were more fickle creatures, flitting from pleasure to pleasure with no care at all for the consequences. Perhaps witches were more human than vampires, in that respect: they had an instinctual need to love and bond, despite their usually solitary natures, while vampires could really care less. And although Mitchell cared deeply for his little spellcaster, he balked at the idea of being bound to a single being so utterly. He’d only just shed his humanity; why would he want to go back to that human need to be pair-bonded?

Still, though, it seemed that even monsters got lonely, and after several weeks of going back and forth about it in his mind, Mitchell had decided that yes, it was worth the sacrifice, to be bound to Anders before the new moon. He’d been heartbroken before, having lost so many that he loved to time and brutal death, but Anders wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever loved. Anders was strong, Anders was immortal, Anders could look death in the eye and laugh as he told it to bugger off. So, in the end, all those weeks of agonized debating paid off when he told Anders that yes, he would bind himself to the witch beneath the new moon. Those blue eyes faded into an excited gold, magic swirling in the air as Anders cried out in joy and wrapped his arms around the taller vampire, clinging to him as he murmured words of love and dark devotion. They made love in a pool of fresh blood, just like they did after Anders was revealed to Mitchell, red and white and gold and black mixing together until no one could tell where one man began and the other ended. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from "Dark Horse" by Katy Perry. This song was probably the initial influence for this series. Music makes the muse go round for me, it seems.


	2. ...There's No Going Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new moon has risen. All hail the dark powers. Two men come forth to seal their bond.
> 
> Light the fires and brew the potions, the ritual has begun.

The new moon brought with it a dark, nearly starless night. Although the bright lights of the city were far behind them, it seemed that even the glittering stars in the far, far distance hid from the shadowy magic that permeated the air. Deep in the woods, with a fire burning before them, the Johnson clan stood in a semicircle. The Johnson boys stood tall and proud, along with Olaf’s lover Stacey and Mike’s partner Michele, all bare of mortal raiment, clad only in their dark cloaks and pants. Ty and Axl stood as Mitchell’s family, since the vampire had no witches in his bloodline as far as he knew, and all of his mortal family was dead.

Ingrid, the most senior hedgewitch they knew, brought forth two cups, brimming with a strange potion. Her purple dress glinted in the firelight as she handed the goblets to the vampire and the witch, speaking arcane words too difficult to translate to the written word. Backing away, she gestured for the two men, bare except for light leggings, to drink and speak the words. Anders’ eyes were bright gold, glowing like a cat’s eyes in the darkness as Mitchell felt the thrum of ancient magic swirling in the air like the fire’s smoke. Many hours had been spent in conference with Ty, who acted as Mitchell’s elder brother, teaching the vampire the proper words and rituals to become one of them, a witch in all but name and powers. At first, when they were lighting the fire in the dim glow of sunset, the vampire had felt nervous; now, though, he was ready. 

_"With this cup, I pour my soul past your lips. With these words, I invoke the spirits to witness us plight our troth. With my hands, I carve your heart from your chest. With silken thread and bitter steel, I sew the wound shut. With sharpest cry and blackest blood, I seal your heart within me. Your soul to mine, your body to my own, our hearts stitched together by arcane thread. May the spirits bless our union, the old ways forever be followed, all magic witness our claim, dark powers forever torment us should we stray. With these vows, I join myself to thee, for all eternity, and darkness beyond."_

The two spoke in unison, the words echoing around them as they were magnified by the power hidden inside of the syllables. As they said the words, the arm that held their cup wrapped around the other’s, drawing them closer together. As the last verse was said, they tipped their cups back, draining their goblets of the dark liquid, the smell of poppies and lavender heavy in the air around them. A heady rush of warmth and tingling sensations spilled from their heads to their feet, like they’d imbibed a rich alcohol instead of a potion. Their eyes closed, they untangled their arms and tossed the cups aside, before slowly opening their eyes to half-mast. Mitchell could feel Anders’ mind within his own, a soft presence like a distant song, soothing but incoherent. The witch could feel the same, the vampire’s cool spirit lingering within the peripherals of Anders’ psyche, sharp like a knife and calming as a bed of flowers. 

Their souls were bound now, their minds and hearts linked forever; now all that was left was to lay their claim before witnesses, before the spirits both dark and fair, and cement their union. Different couples did this in different ways; Michele and Mike had permanently painted ancient symbols on each others’ skin before consummating their marriage, while Ingrid had once told Mitchell that she and her partner had crafted gold chains and pendants for each other. So long as there was a physical token of their claims, she’d said, it didn’t matter what it was. Mitchell saw it as similar to when couples would go out and buy a wedding ring for the other, personalized and unique. Anders and his vampire had discussed their claims at length, tossing out as many ideas as they came up with, none of them feeling right. It wasn’t until one night, after a rather long bout of fucking and biting (from both sides), that Anders had been struck with brilliance. Mitchell had enthusiastically agreed, of course, and they had made the careful preparations required. 

The firelight shone a bloody red and violent orange as the two men pulled out thin, wicked-looking blades from small sheaths on their thighs. They would make the most lasting and devout mark that any witchly pair could make: they would carve their claiming marks into their lover’s skin, searing their promises deep within their flesh. Anders moved first, knowing that if Mitchell was to make the first cuts, he’d soon be overcome by the smell of Anders’ blood and forget the rest of the ritual in favor of fucking his blonde lover (not that Anders would mind, under any other circumstance). Slowly, his blade glinting in the dim light, he drew his sigil into Mitchell’s pectoral, right above his dead heart. Crimson blood seeped sluggishly from the wound; Mitchell hadn’t fed in a while in preparation for this night, knowing that he’d drink from his witch in due time.

Anders finished his carving, licking his thin blade clean of Mitchell’s blood, putting on a show for his lover, knowing that somewhere off to the side, Mike was rolling his eyes. Good; it was the least he could do to pay the elder witch back for having to listen to him and Michele coo at each other like lovesick doves for the last three centuries. His blade was tossed aside as he stood still for Mitchell to begin his work. The vampire’s hand was steady, even though he would have been trembling if he were still human. He cut a raven over a celtic knot on Anders’ chest, also above his heart; the symbol had been chosen as the vampire’s sigil, which would be placed beside Anders’ from now on, as a symbol of their unity. The vampire finished his job and, forgoing licking off his blade, simply tossed it aside and pulled his blonde witch to his body, kissing him deeply as the blonde laughed into the kiss. 

Now was the final part of their claim, of the ancient ritual: the two lovers must consummate their marriage before witnesses from both families. Ty and Axl moved to stand side-by-side to the left of the fire, representing Mitchell’s family, while Mike, Olaf, and their partners stood to the right for Anders. Not that the two men noticed this; they were already stripping each other of their legging and throwing them aside, not caring where they landed or how dirty they got. The grass beneath their feet was cool and smooth as Mitchell lowered Anders to the ground, their lips still connected. Blood smeared on pale chests as open wounds refused to close from all the movement as cocks filled and hips rutted together. A bottle of oil was tossed at them, but from whom, neither ever found out, nor did they care. Mitchell simply caught it without looking up, dripping the smooth liquid onto his long fingers as he kissed down Anders’ neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. 

Anders cried out in pleasure-pain as he was breached, Mitchell’s digits slipping into him one by one as the vampire worshipped his lover’s neck. He could feel Anders’ pleasure through their bond, their connection allowing him to know, even more so than usual, what made Anders gasp and writhe and beg for more. Similarly, Anders could feel Mitchell’s mind give itself over to raw pleasure, abandoning all thoughts besides opening the blonde up as quickly as possible and seating his cock inside of the smaller man. Slick sounds and breathless gasps were all that broke the silence of the night; even the fire’s crackling had died down as the final rite took place. When three fingers were stretching Anders open wide, Mitchell’s eyes turned pitch black, and he bent down to bite deep into the witch’s neck.

Thick, rich blood spilled past his lips and over his tongue, the witch’s agonized scream of pleasure falling on deaf ears. The blood of a witch was intoxicating, more seductive and addictive than anything Mitchell had ever tasted in all his years of being a vampire. The tingling glow of Anders’ magic flowed through his veins, enhancing his pleasure twice over; now that they were bound in soul and mind, the feedback loop of euphoria was overwhelming to his vampiric senses. Anders, on the other hand, didn’t experience a feedback loop so much as a slow ascent into bliss, usually, but their new bond finally allowed him to feel what Mitchell always felt. His mind was no longer his own, now that Mitchell was tied to it, and the vampire’s pleasure was his own. The rest of the world was blocked out as their bodies entwined, sweat-slick and so tangled that it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. And they weren’t even connected yet. 

Reluctantly, Mitchell’s fangs left Anders’ skin, a red tongue licking over the deep wounds to close and heal them, even though Anders’ magic made the movement unnecessary. Still, though, it warmed Anders’ black heart to know that his lover took such good care of him, instead of merely chasing after his own pleasure thoughtlessly. A soft coo left the blonde’s lips as Mitchell nuzzled the dark bruise he’d made, his hand slicking up his thick cock while he distracted his witch. The vampire caught the witch’s lips in a surprisingly soft kiss, a stark contrast to the fevered rutting they’d been engaging in up until now. Gently, Mitchell wrapped Anders’ legs around his waist, their lips locked and tongues dancing as the vampire slowly slid himself in, giving his lover plenty of time to adjust. The monsters gasped at the feeling of being joined; even though they’d done this hundreds of times before, it felt like the first time all over again, and in a way, it was, for now they were husbands. 

Several slow moments passed before Mitchell began rocking in and out of his lover’s tight heat, strained pants leaving his kiss-bruised lips as he made love to his little witch. Anders, for his part, mewled and whimpered like a whore, not caring that he was letting his guard down not just in front of his intended, but in front of his whole clan. He didn’t care; Mitchell loved him, and he loved Mitchell, as much as their dark, blasphemous hearts could love another being, and that was enough for him. Their lovemaking was lazy and sweet, soft kisses were traded like chocolates, and gasps littered the ground around them as they fell from plush lips. But even lovemaking doesn’t last forever, and they felt their ends nearing. Mitchell’s hips began moving faster and faster, Anders’ legs clinging tighter to his lover’s lithe body as he was claimed from the inside out. Their breaths mingled as their eyes met and held the other’s gaze, black and gold mingling like stars in the night sky. 

Not a word was spoken, and yet they still managed to communicate everything their black hearts felt, their twisted souls making love to their counterpart with curses and low growls of possessive content. Their fingers intertwined, Mitchell pinning his witch’s hands above his head as he strained to make his lover come from his cock alone. The vampire’s blunt cockhead hit Anders’ prostate dead on, teasing the pleasure spot with deep, hard thrusts that gave so much pleasure but not quite enough. Their lips clashed in furious battle as they strove for their ends, the tingling beginnings of orgasm teasing their bodies as they mated beneath the dark moon. Finally,  _finally_ , they came as one, crying out a mangled litany of their husband’s name and a string of curses. The fire blazed as the ritual was completed, the magic set in stone until the end of all things. They were as one, now. They were bound. 

Slowly, they came down from their highs, black eyes turning brown while golden irises turned blue. Soft, contented smiles graced their faces, a sharp contrast to the blood smeared all over Mitchell’s lips and across Anders’ face. Their wounds had sealed shut, a by-product of the ritual ending, their marks permanently set into their skin. Anders’ small fingers came up to trace his mark on Mitchell’s body, a look of delighted disbelief making its way onto his face as he stared up at his mate. Yes,  _his_  mate, his one and only, the man who’d stolen his desiccated heart and brought it back to bloody life. A witch was a solitary creature, until they met their match, and Anders had finally bound himself to his. Mitchell, though not inclined by his biology to mate forever, found that he was quite content with the way things were, laying here on top of his lover, naked and sweaty and covered in blood. He dropped gentle, teasing kisses all over Anders’ face, making the witch laugh quietly. 

"Oh, great! Anders is turning into  _you_!” Axl whined, covering his eyes as he pointed accusingly at Mike.

The eldest Johnson brother rolled his eyes and waved his hand at the youngest brother, setting the hem of his jeans on fire. He laughed darkly as the tallest Johnson struggled to put out the flames, Ty delighting in being of no help at all as Axl rolled around on the ground. Stacey and Olaf were already leaving, heading off to get high and fuck, most likely, while Ingrid and Michele chatted about whatever it was that women like them chatted about. And lying on the leaf-littered forest floor were Anders Johnson and John Mitchell, newly mated and bound by ancient ritual, their heated bodies cooling in the early spring air as they kissed and touched and bit. Their bond was sealed in blood, semen, and dark devotion, an unbreakable vow of fidelity and everlasting evil. No blood had been spilled that night, save their own, but the world had better watch out, because it wouldn’t stay that way for long: Mitchell would be getting  _very_ hungry soon, and a witch always takes care of his mate. 

And silently, above them all, the stars came out, one by one, and the wolves howled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from "Dark Horse" by Katy Perry. This song was probably the initial influence for this series. Music makes the muse go round for me, it seems.


End file.
